Weekly Message from T. J.

Tyranny of Time

“Hey, Jack.” I gesture for my friend to come over to the table where I’m reading outside Kahala Mall. He squints and takes a few steps toward a voice he isn’t sure is really calling his name. But he doesn’t recognize anyone so he returns to munching his pizza. I get up and go over to him rather than call him again. “Oh, T. J. It’s you!” But immediately he looks at his watch between bites of his slice of pizza. It’s 5:56 pm and he says he has to be at work at 6.

We start to catch up a little. It’s been three months since we saw each other. Since we know each other from a sport that requires a uniform, he says he didn’t recognize me. And he apologizes. We talk about how some of the other folks on the team are doing. 5:58. He says, “I’m sorry, but I really have to be at work by 6.” And he runs toward the restaurant in the mall.

When I worked in the corporate world, I used to call a friend who lived between my office and my apartment on my way home to see if she wanted to meet up. She never could. She was always working. And sometimes she was crying…because of the sheer amount of work she had. She wasn’t alone. Many companies and firms in New York and other places have in-house gyms, dry cleaning services, dining rooms, and laundry. The employees don’t have to leave. Some never do. Some feel they can’t.

I think of the lawyers, bankers, accountants, and other service providers in many corners of the globe as types of handmaidens to a global financial elite whose personal wealth seems ever to grow, facilitated, managed, and strategized by this class of professionals. And I think of the laborers, the hourly workers, the waiters whose pay seems never to grow enough to meet daily expenses, not to mention to save for the years ahead. And sometimes I wonder what would happen for us all if just about three percent of those handmaidens, who possess all the tools for building a structure atop a foundation of exploitation, simply stopped…and changed sides.

As I watched my friend run to work, I wondered a little if he simply didn’t want to talk to me anymore. That’s possible. But the look in his eyes said that he would get in trouble if he clocked in late. And as I remember the tears that seemed almost to stream across the telephone line to my own cheek from my friend, mourning the time she could not spare, my heart breaks still for her. In both friends I sensed something had been taken, even in some small measure, of their humanity and self-determination. And faintly I hear a call to remake a world where poverty of the purse, poverty of our time, and poverty of the spirit are no more. I hear the call. I turn. And I can almost recognize us all sitting at the same table together once more.

May it one day be so.

Rev. T. J.
minister@unitariansofhi.org

2 Responses to “Weekly Message from T. J.

  1. Mmm, a great observation. The amount of time we spend in order to be consumers does a real number on us. I’m “retired” now, but still haven’t broken completely free of it. As I heard once, “I like eating regularly and sleeping indoors.” But I’ve come to conclude the best thing money can buy (after security of the basic necessities) is experiences. For me, that means travel. And I’m still trying to balance earning enough to do so, with the time required to get away. 🙂

  2. Also retired – from a public charter school with a crushing workload, yet staffed by & supported by people with a passion for our mission. Working here meant no time for friendships, book clubs, community activities, church, any personal life. It meant responding to emergency fire alarms at 2:00 a.m., meeting contractors at 7 a.m and parents at 6 p.m. the same day. We called the workload “heavy lifting” and some burned out. Some had horrible health conditions from the stress. Was it worth it? Yes. And I am so thankful to be retired.

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